To diminish his feelings was like dragging a rake over his already scuffed heart, but I had to worry about myself.
Unable to move, I watched Aston’s hand cover mine in slow motion, as if I weren’t inside my body anymore. With one tiny statement—let’s not argue—I’d let him in. Completely in.
Maybe it was the alcohol from the night before. Or maybe it was Aston being here in my living room. But I felt like a fly on the ceiling, watching his fingers close over mine. I needed to stop him, but I couldn’t.
More than anything, I wanted to pull away. Even more, I wanted to lean into his chest.
His eyes drew me in, the warmth of his palm smoothing over my trembling hand was a burning fire I couldn’t escape. I had an overwhelming desire to give in, an idea as crazy as wanting to run straight into a burning building. All of it was too much.
“Bex, I don’t want to use you. I never meant to make you feel used back then. For me, it was always you, only you, and . . . it’s still you. The situation was so fucked up, but—”
“But what? All of it was fucked up.” I yanked my hand back and stood up. Pacing the floor, I refused to look at anything but the gray shag carpet—which probably looked cheap to him.
He stood and clasped each of my biceps, steadying my frantic steps and forcing me to look at him. “Slow down. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to make things right. I was going to say, ‘Back then, my dad hung everything over my head, and I wasn’t smart enough or strong enough to tell him to go fuck himself.’ But now I am.”
My gaze dropped to the carpet again. I couldn’t get lost in him, especially after those words. Even though they made my heart beat a furious pace, my head needed clarification, and my body required space. “You’re what now?”
“Strong enough. I know what I want, and I’m going to get it.”
Somehow, I managed to meet his eyes. “And this isn’t about your legal troubles? Maybe you don’t have anyone else in your corner. Are you looking for a shoulder to cry on or a character witness? Or maybe since your marriage fell apart, I’m the likely replacement? By the way, your divorce is old news. It’s been going around town like Shirl Betts getting knocked up the summer we met.”
“Neither. I’m innocent, so I don’t need a shoulder to cry on, and I don’t need a replacement wife. I only want you, the one woman I’ve ever loved,” he said, his voice confident and strong.
“I promise you, I’m not going to soothe your aching heart over a broken marriage.”
He nodded, that cocky, arrogant, full-of-himself nod.
“Did you do it?” I blurted, unable to help myself. “I’ve been walking around here for two weeks thinking, could you do it? Why would you do it? And stupidly worrying if you were okay if you did it.”
“I thought you didn’t want to get mixed up in it?”
“Stop. Don’t play games with me.”
“I didn’t do it.” His breath tickled my cheek as he held me tighter in place. His fingers dug into my biceps, his gaze serious and soulful all at once.
“Then why are they saying you did?”
“I don’t have a goddamn clue. That’s what I’m going to figure out.”
“Don’t you think you should be doing that instead of wasting time here? I mean, it’s a little late. Four kids between the two of us, two broken marriages, and let’s not forget the elephant in the room—your dad. By the way, how is the old guy?”
“Don’t ruin this. Don’t bring him up. He’s the way he’s always been. In love with himself, his legacy, and Federal.”
“Then what do you want from me? I mean, Milly could’ve asked me. You talk with Mike, and that’s all hush-hush.”
“I want you. Not Mike. Not my dad. You.”
“It seems too coincidental. All these problems dogging you, and now you’re here. I’ve waited a long time for this day, and now it’s here and I don’t believe it.”
His lips came close, grazing my cheek as he whispered in my ear, “You need to allow yourself to believe it.”
I pulled away.
After all, I’d heard those words before.
Aston
I’d never been much of a liar, but the fibs started coming naturally a few years ago. They would roll off my tongue with ease when it came to my wife, Cass, currently my ex. Sadly, it never felt wrong.
Now, as I dropped breadcrumbs of little white lies with Bexley, it felt horrible.
There might have been a huge divide between us, financial and otherwise, but I’d always told her the truth. At one time, Bexley was like a truth serum for me. I craved that, wanted it back, that time when I could tell her anything and know she wouldn’t judge me.
“Remember when we first met? Christ, we were young.” I ran my hand through my hair, feeling it stick up at the ends. Cass would have sneered and told me I needed a haircut.
Bexley, who was standing right in front of me, didn’t say a word. We were facing each other, but she left enough space between us so I couldn’t touch her. My hand shook, wanting to close the divide.
“I was a kid then,” she said. “A foolish, smitten girl looking into a window of a world I knew better than to think I’d ever belong to.”
“Nah, you did belong. Do belong. The only foolish person was me. What I mean is, you were the first person I’d ever come clean to, been honest with, you know? I’d never really told anyone about my mom before and her antics. The endless lying in bed. The pining-away bullshit. At least, I thought it was bull, but she was the one who knew what was up. I chose to believe my dad, and
